


More As-yet Untitled Russian Mafia AU

by hockeyallthehockey



Series: Russian Mafia AU [2]
Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: M/M, Medical Inaccuracies, Russian Mafia AU, Serious Injuries
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-25
Updated: 2018-02-25
Packaged: 2019-03-24 02:40:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 991
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13801662
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hockeyallthehockey/pseuds/hockeyallthehockey
Summary: That Sasha didn’t even smile at him, let alone joke, spoke volumes about the severity of the situation.(I suck at titles and summaries, okay, it's a known fact.)





	More As-yet Untitled Russian Mafia AU

**Author's Note:**

> This is part of a still-in-development Russian-Mafia-in-Halifax AU where Geno’s a goon and Sid is a paramedic. You can find another piece of this same AU [here](http://archiveofourown.org/works/13584279/chapters/31180482) with @Zhenya71’s stuff.
> 
> Up front warnings for probably-batshit-unrealistic medical stuff. I am not a doctor, a trained medic, or - apparently - ready to read up on the medical stuff I’m writing about, so please accept that the injuries and illnesses in this story, and the treatment thereof, may be portrayed with wild inaccuracy.
> 
> Also, Google Translate is my Russian professor, so… you know. And Zhenya71 is my beta and co-conspirator, blame them too. ;)

“Where is he?”

That Sasha didn’t even smile at him, let alone joke, spoke volumes about the severity of the situation. He just jerked his head to the side in a ‘follow me’ motion, and lead Sidney back to the smaller, marginally cleaner room that the boys had set up as a makeshift infirmary.

Sid shifted the carry-strap of his field kit - his ‘special’ field kit, the one he used for the boys - higher on his shoulder and hurried after Sasha. “There’s another bag of stuff in my car,” he said, his voice tight. “And a big bottle of water. I’ll need it all. Oh my  _ God _ .”

He pushed around Sasha and dropped his field kit as he hit his knees beside the dirty mattress keeping Zhenya off the dirtier wooden floor. “Zhenya?  _ Evgeni _ . Fuck, okay. I need to know what you’ve done. Fuck,  _ fuck _ , somebody go get the water and the rest of the supplies out of my car.”

Sergei went to retrieve things from Sid’s car, and Sasha ran down what they knew, what they’d done. Sid pulled on gloves and started to strip away the clothes and outermost bandages over the wound still bleeding, albeit sluggishly, all over Zhenya’s left side. The bullet was still lodged in his side, but it was shallow, and Sid could see it bulging under the skin. It needed to come out, but he needed to assess his patient, first, and he needed to fucking  _ focus _ .

He shoved a notepad and pencil at Sasha. “I need you to write things down for me, can you do that?” he asked, as he pulled an ear thermometer out of his kit. Without waiting for an answer, he put the thermometer in Zhenya’s ear, and swore when it beeped. “ _ Fuck _ . Temperature is 103.8. Write that down. Jesus, Zhenya…” Pulse was next - shallow and rapid - and then blood pressure, low but not critically low. Yet.

“Is he injured anywhere else?” he asked, and then reached to take the notepad back from Sasha, jotting down a handful of notes in shorthand.

“Where he's shot, and maybe his hand?” Sasha answered, nodding to Zhenya’s bruised and swollen knuckles. “He’s punching with gun in hand.”

Sid glanced at Zhenya’s hand, then shook his head and turned his attention back to the bullet wound. “Fingers might be broken, this is more urgent.  _ Fuck _ . This is infected, probably why his fever is so high.” He asked a quick string of questions, not even waiting long enough for Sasha to answer before asking the next question. “How long has he been unconscious? Has he eaten anything, had anything to drink at all, since he was shot? Has he vomited? Urinated?”

Sasha shook his head, his expression tight with worry. "Been unconscious all today, most of yesterday. Got some water in him yesterday. Hasn't puked or pissed, last two days."

Sid swore under his breath again. “Okay. I need to get the bullet out, clean the fuck outta that wound, and get it stitched up. Then we’re gonna get an IV going, fluids and antibiotics, and something for pain and to bring his fever down. If we can’t get his fever down, we need to get him in a cool bath.” He wet his lips and looked up as Sergei came back in, lugging the other bag of supplies, and the big water-cooler bottle of water. “Good, perfect, спасибо.”

He pressed gently on the bullet bulging against Zhenya’s skin, and got the first real reaction out of the other man. He moaned, and tried to bat at Sidney’s hand, but didn’t wake. “Nnnn.”

Sid cupped one gloved hand against Zhenya’s flushed cheek. “Shh, мое солнце и звезды. It’s just me, you’ll be all right. Все в порядке, я позабочусь о тебе.” Zhenya didn’t reply, didn’t even moan again, and Sid blew out a short breath. “Саша, ты мой помощник. Наденьте перчатки.”

Sasha did as he was told, pulling on gloves and kneeling on Zhenya’s other side. He knew enough to find what Sid asked for in the kit, and his hands were steady even under stress. Between them, he and Sid worked to get the last layer of bandages off the bullet wound, and then Sidney sprayed topical anaesthetic over the area, injected a deeper numbing agent, and had Kostya and Sergei hold Zhenya still while he worked the bullet loose and removed it.

_ That _ got a reaction from Zhenya, and even sick and unconscious, he was big enough, strong enough to make holding him still a chore. He settled when the bullet was out and Sid could stop digging in the wound, though he was still restless, shifting and mumbling, feverish. Cleaning the wound had him moaning and trying to twist away again, and Kostya ended up lying across his thighs to hold him down.

Once the wound was finally as clean as Sid could get it, it was a fairly quick process to get it closed and bandaged, and then Sid could look at Zhenya’s hand. Without an x-ray, he couldn’t be certain, of course, but as best he could tell, the middle finger was broken but not displaced. The index and ring fingers didn’t appear to be broken, or at least if there were, they were only simple fractures, so immobilizing them all was enough, and accomplished relatively quickly. 

The next hour was spent getting Zhenya clean, getting him up off the floor - Sid had a camping cot in the back of the Range Rover - and trying to get his fever down. Sid got an IV line going with fluids and antibiotics, and something for the pain, and acetaminophen and ibuprofen to try to get his fever down. When that didn’t work, they took turns sponging him with cool water. Finally, finally, between the meds and the cool sponge bath Zhenya’s fever started to come down, his fevered tossing and mumbling eased off, and he slipped into an easier sleep.

**Author's Note:**

> Russian translations per Google Translate:  
> \- спасибо : Thank you.  
> \- мое солнце и звезды : my sun and stars (already established as an endearment off-screen in this AU)  
> \- Все в порядке, я позабочусь о тебе. : It’s all right, I’ll take care of you.  
> \- Саша, ты мой помощник. Наденьте перчатки. : Sasha, you’re my assistant. Put gloves on.
> 
> Come scream about hockey with me on Tumblr at [hockeyallthehockey](https://hockeyallthehockey.tumblr.com/)


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